A Midwinter Night's Dream
by MockingJayFlyingFree
Summary: Katniss made it to 18 without being reaped. Her friend Madge talks a very reluctant Katniss into going to her first Midwinter Dance. It's a decision she instantly regrets. Written for Prompts in Panem: Holidays in Panem 2014. Panem AU.
1. Chapter 1

**_Katniss_**

I never should have agreed to this.

I look nervously around the room. I can barely feel my fingers, and my shoes are wet. The melting snow in my hair is dripping down my neck, causing me to shudder. It's warm in here, though. It's a relief after being outside, but I can already tell that it will feel too warm very soon. It doesn't help that it reeks of sweat and white liquor in here, either.

"Come on, Katniss," Madge says.

"Why did I let you talk me into this?"

"What?"

It's almost impossible to hear anything over the fiddler and the drunken singing. "Why did I let you talk me into this?" I repeat, louder this time and closer to her ear.

"Because you sit at home with your mother and sister every Saturday night. You're 18, Katniss. You're _free_! You need to get out of the house more." Madge is an only child. She doesn't understand that I don't consider surviving to 18, despite all the tesserae I've taken out, a success. Not as long as Prim is still eligible for the reaping. And if she's reaped next year, I can't volunteer for her. "Stop scowling."

"I'm not scowling."

"You are. Take off your coat and throw it in the heap on that table over there." Madge has clearly been to these dances before, but I haven't, because she's right; I do stay at home every Saturday night.

I reluctantly take off my winter coat. It's from my mother's merchant days and it's the nicest coat I've got, even though it's old and worn, and both of the elbows are patched. I set it on the top of the pile. I hope I'll be able to find it again at the end of the night. Or sooner, because I'll be out of here as soon as I can find an excuse to leave.

I nervously smooth down the skirt of my green dress. It's a summer dress, but with a silver gray shawl covering my shoulders, I guess I'm dressed appropriately for both the occasion and the weather.

"Here," Madge says under her breath, and hands me a bottle.

I eye it suspiciously. "Where did you get this, Madge?"

"The Hob, of course."

"_You_ went to the Hob?" Good Town girls don't go there. I only go out of necessity. It's the best place to trade for food, salt, and fabric. I hunt alone now that Gale is in the mines six days a week, so the haul is not as profitable as it was back when we were both hunting daily.

Now Gale and I only hunt together on Sundays. Although it's been pretty awkward lately... since the kiss.

I hesitantly swallow a mouthful of Madge's liquor, and I instantly start coughing. "Not used to liquor, sweetheart?" I hear someone say behind me. I turn to see Haymitch Abernathy, the alcoholic victor. He's grinning at me.

I dry my eyes and don't bother to answer him as I hand the bottle back to Madge. "So what do we do now?"

"We drink, dance and have fun." I grimace at her suggestions. "Or you could always make out with someone in a dark corner."

"Madge!"

"That's why people come to these parties, you know."

I groan. "Shut up." She laughs. Her Town blue eyes are a bit glassy. I think she's had more than just a mouthful of white liquor. "Is that what _you're_ hoping to do tonight?"

She shrugs. "Maybe." She looks over my shoulder, and she lifts an eyebrow. "But I know someone who's _definitely_ hoping to make out in a dark corner tonight."

"Who?" I turn around. I instantly regret it when I meet a pair of blue eyes from across the room.

"Peeta Mellark," Madge breathes in my ear. "He's been staring at you from the moment we came in through the door."

The boy with the bread.

Yes. Attending this dance was definitely a bad idea.

xoxoxoxox

**_Peeta_**

I'm speaking with Rye and one of his asshole friends, Branch. They do most of the talking. Branch just got married, and I'm hearing a _lot_ more about their marital activities than I ever wanted to.

I see Katniss as soon as she enters the room, and for a second, it's as if everything else freezes.

There is no electricity tonight, no surprise there, and the bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling are dark. Instead, the room is lit by oil lamps on tables and torches on the wall. Katniss is standing close to one of the torches. The flames flicker, making her glow, as if she's on fire. Her hair is down tonight, and as her hand reaches up to tuck a lock behind her ear, I suddenly find it hard to breathe. I've only ever seen her hair braided. But tonight, with her luscious curls and waves flowing freely over her shoulders, she looks the way she does in my dreams.

I shift uneasily, hoping Rye and that idiot Branch won't notice my growing erection. I roll my eyes at myself. Look at the effect she has on me. All this just from looking at her damn _hair_.

Katniss scowls as she looks around the room, and says something to Madge Undersee.

"Hey, Peeta?"

I blink. "Sorry?"

Rye laughs. "Branch was just saying how much better it is to get head while you're standing, but I guess I can't expect you to pay attention to anything else when Katniss Everdeen is around."

"Shut up, Rye," I hiss.

"Katniss who?" Branch asks.

"Everdeen," Rye says. Branch still looks confused. "She hung out with Gale Hawthorne all the time at school. She's thin, with gray eyes-"

"You just described pretty much every girl in the Seam," Branch complains.

"I said she _hung out_ with Gale Hawthorne, not that she was _fucking_ Gale Hawthorne, so that pretty much leaves you with only Everdeen," Rye says. Everyone knows Gale has taken a fair number of girls to the slag heap. "Although I bet that's what they did half the time in the forest." Rye snickers as he looks at me, clearly gauging my reaction.

I have to breathe slowly to stay calm. I take a sip from my bottle to clear my head. Or maybe to avoid having to say something right away. The liquor burns as it goes down my throat, but I ignore the sensation.

"Peeta's been _looking_ at Katniss Everdeen since he was, like, six years old." Five. But who's counting.

Branch eyes Katniss up and down. "She's a fine piece of ass, I'll give her that. A little scrawny, but all Seam girls are. But it shouldn't really take you _that_ long just to hook up with a Seam slut, Peeta. You need to work on your game. I thought you were getting advice from your brothers?"

Asshole. I want to punch him in his face. Instead, I mutter another "shut up".

I gulp down some more white liquor and try not to stare at Katniss as she follows Madge through the crowd. Katniss never comes to these dances. I know, because I come to all of them. I always hope that she'll show up, but she never has. Not until tonight.

I've thought about this so many times. The fantasies are always the same. I'd walk over to her and we'd start talking. We'd dance, and I'd feel her body against mine. I'd pull her away from the dance floor and take her someplace quiet. She'd laugh at my jokes, and we'd even talk about the deep stuff. I'd walk her home and end the evening with a kiss.

In my head, there is never any hesitation on my part. There is no awkwardness. I always know what to say and what to do. But now that she's actually here, I'm clutching my bottle desperately as I stare at her from across the room, and I know, I just _know_, that if I actually walk over to her and try to talk to her, I'll make a complete ass of myself.

I take another pull from the bottle and sigh. What the hell do I do now?

xoxoxoxox

**_Katniss_**

I follow Madge as she makes her way through the crowd. She hands me the bottle, and I take another mouthful. It doesn't burn quite as much this time.

The room is large, but it's still packed with people. Most of them are drunk. Everyone's singing, dancing, or – yes, Madge was right – making out in dark corners. It's noisy, crowded, and confusing. I don't get what this has to do with Midwinter at all. In fact, I don't even know why we celebrate Midwinter in the first place. It's the darkest day of the year, sure. Starting tomorrow, the days will gradually get longer. But winter has just begun, really. The hunger will only get worse with every passing week. Some of us will lose family members soon. What's there to celebrate? Nothing at all.

"Katniss."

Suddenly, he's standing right in front of me. Damn it.

"Gale." I try to smile. It's been more than half a year now, since that night after my last reaping. We were in the woods, and out of the blue, he said that he _loved_ me. He kissed me before I had the chance to figure out how to respond. When he released me, I turned around and ran - actually _ran_ - back to town. It hasn't been the same between us ever since.

"Well, this is a first." I can smell the white liquor on him.

"Madge talked me into coming," I explain.

Gale looks from me and over to Madge. She looks perfectly Merchant tonight. Her long, blonde curly hair, slightly chubby cheeks, and clear blue eyes all compliment her red dress. She's beautiful. And Gale can't take his eyes off of her.

"Hey there, Madge," he says, and she actually _blushes_. "Haven't seen you in a while."

They've seen each other?

She tilts her head and looks up at him. He's so much taller than her. "I've been busy."

No. She has not been busy.

There's an awkward silence. "Well." Gale clears his throat nervously. He nods over to some of his friends. Miners, of course. "I gotta go. Talk to you later?"

"Sure," I answer. Madge doesn't say anything. When Gale's a safe distance from us, I turn towards my friend but she's looking at the floor. I lift an eyebrow. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing."

"You _like_ him," I accuse, with wide eyes. "_Gale_?"

"No, I don't," she hisses, but her blush is answer enough.

"How long has this been going on?"

She looks uncomfortable. "Um… I've thought he was really cute for years, I guess, but he never gave me the time of day. But then this fall, we've sort of made out a few times. At dances."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Gale was after _you_ for years. I've felt like such a shitty friend."

"It's okay, I don't mind. You know that I'm not interested in Gale."

"But you still hang out with him all the time, don't you?"

"As a _friend._ And we don't really hang out all the time anymore, not now that he's working in the mines."

"He doesn't exactly look at you in a _friendly_ way." Madge takes another sip from the bottle. It's half empty already. She's going to get sick if she keeps this up. "You really don't mind?" Her voice is small.

"No."

She exhales. "That's such a relief. I was so worried that-" She cuts herself short. "Look, Gale and I are just hooking up, okay? I know he's not interested in anything _more_ with me, because, well… You know."

I squirm. I don't really want to think about it. But the worst thing about this isn't really Gale, and whatever he may or may not feel for me. It's Madge. The way she looked at him suggested that she wants something more than just a hook-up from him.

She chuckles and shakes her head. "It's funny, isn't it? I am looking at Gale. Gale is looking at you." Her eyes drift over my shoulder. "Peeta Mellark is _also_ looking at you." She looks at me again. "But you? You never look at anyone, do you?"

Peeta again? "What?"

Madge snorts. "You're blind, Katniss. You really are." She laughs and takes my hand. "Whatever. Let's dance."

I reluctantly follow her to the dance floor.

xoxoxoxox

**_Peeta_**

In the low and flickering light, the dance is lively. There are lots of seemingly complicated partner changes as the dancers spin around in circles. I've known that Katniss has an ear for music since we were little, of course, so I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise that she's a great dancer, too. She moves graciously from one partner to the next. She clearly knows the steps, despite not having been to any of these dances before. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is a beautiful mess over her shoulders, and she _smiles_. I've rarely seen her smile.

I know that I'm staring at her. I can't help it, but Katniss is too busy dancing to notice. Rye does, though.

"You are pathetic, you know," Rye says.

I huff. "Shut up."

"No, really. This is the most pathetic thing I've ever seen in my life. You're good looking, you're a nice guy, and you're Merchant. You can have any girl you want. But the one girl you actually _do_ want is the ice queen of 12, who's never even looked in your direction."

The fiddler ends the song, and there's wild clapping and cheering. Katniss claps, too. Her last dancing partner was a miner, who says something to her as they part, and she laughs in response. I wish I could make her laugh like that.

Rye is right. I am pathetic.

xoxoxoxox

**_Katniss_**

I'm never going to admit this to Madge, but I am actually having fun. I guess all those nights dancing with Prim in our kitchen have paid off. Even though it was hard to practice mixer dances, because there was just the two of us, I don't mess up the partner changes too badly.

The fiddler takes what appears to be a large mouthful from the small bottle in his pocket, and announces that he's "gotta go take a leak." He disappears out the door, into the winter night.

"A song, a song!" a man shouts.

There's a moment of silence. Then a dark-haired woman, who looks like she's in her 40s, takes a step forward. All eyes are fixed on her as she starts singing.

I don't remember her name, but what I do remember is her husband, dying on my mother's table after a mining accident last year, and her quiet crying as he did. He was the only one on his team who made it out of the mines alive that day, but the injuries he'd sustained were too much for my mother's herbs and stitches. All she really had to offer him was some of her precious morphling to ease his passing. Their eldest son is one of Gale's best friends; in fact, they're standing next to each other now. They're watching her with dark eyes and clenched jaws.

Her voice is deep for a woman, and slightly raspy. The mood in the room instantly changes when it's clear which song she's singing. Where a moment ago people were dancing and laughing, they are suddenly serious now. It's a song everyone in the district knows. An old folk song, of love and loss. The woman sings alone for the first few lines, but then people start to sing along until the whole room is singing by the end of the first verse.

_But blond is the color of my true love's hair  
>His face is like some rosy fair<br>The prettiest face and the neatest hands  
>I love the ground whereon he stands<em>

Not everyone knows the lyrics, but that doesn't stop them from humming along. I'm warm and flushed from dancing, and I can feel the effect of the white liquor coursing through my veins. I start singing, too. My dad used to sing this song, long ago. I close my eyes, and it's as if he's here with me.

_The winter's passed and the leaves are green,  
>The time is passed that we have seen,<br>But still I hope the time will come  
>When you and I shall be as one.<em>

_I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep,  
>But satisfied I never could sleep.<br>I'll write to you in a few short lines,  
>I'll suffer death ten thousand times.<em>

There are so many here tonight who have lost a father, a husband, or a son. A tear rolls down my cheek.

_So fare you well, my own true love,  
>The time has passed, but I wish you well;<br>But still I hope the time will come  
>When you and I will be as one.<em>

It's not until the end of the last verse that I realize that I'm the only one who's still singing. I open my eyes and find that everyone else is staring wide-eyed at me. I blush, looking bewildered around at the silent crowd. No one says a word.

I dry away the tear, and I'm mortified when I realize that it wasn't just one. Both my cheeks are wet. Without a word, I push my way through the crowd and leave the dance as quickly as my legs allow me.

xoxoxoxox

**_Peeta_**

It starts out as a song that almost everyone sings along to. But Katniss's clear voice stands out from the rest, almost from the very beginning, and one by one, people stop singing to listen to her. She's standing there, looking so beautiful, with her eyes closed and a serene look on her face. Tears are rolling down her cheeks. She seems completely unaware that everyone else has fallen silent, listening to her voice.

She has no idea, the effect that she has. It's like a dream.

When the last tone dies out, the room is deathly silent. Katniss opens her eyes and looks around, her eyes wide, clearly in shock. She quickly dries her cheeks with the back of her hand. Then she runs out the door. Madge runs out after her.

"Well, I'll be damned…" Rye murmurs. "Did you know Everdeen can sing like that?"

"Yes," I confess. But I had forgotten the true effect that her voice has on me.

"Imagine if the text had been 'black hair' instead of blond hair. And in a room full of miners… Wow." He shakes his head.

"What do you mean?"

"Seriously? Did you _see_ her when she sang? And the looks on people's faces when she did? She _meant_ something to them, to every single person in the room, Seam or Town." His voice is only a whisper now. "People would follow her, that's what I'm saying."

"Follow?" I have no idea what he's talking about.

"There are rumors the miners aren't happy. Well, they've been unhappy for decades, I guess, but things are worse than ever now. The shifts are longer, their families are hungrier. More people die in accidents that might not really be all that accidental. There's even talk of a secret resistance, one that goes far beyond 12."

The fiddler has started playing again, somewhat hesitatingly at first. The melody is fast and cheerful, in stark contrast to the song Katniss just sang. Surprisingly quickly, the first couple enters the dance floor, and the party soon returns to normal, as if nothing has happened. As if Katniss's voice didn't fill the room, making everyone listen to her in awe.

"Rye!" I can barely get the words out. "Where did you hear about that?"

"Bristel." He was fucking her last summer.

"You shouldn't talk about it. It's dangerous," I hiss.

"So is working in the mines," he says. He looks across the room to Gale, who's still standing with his group of miner friends. His brow is furrowed. He doesn't look sad, he looks… angry.

I keep a close eye on the door. Madge comes back inside, but Katniss doesn't. Madge stumbles slightly, then disappears into the crowd.

"I'll be right back," I tell Rye.

"Peeta!" I hear his voice behind me, but I don't stop.

It's ice cold outside. It snowed when I walked here earlier tonight, but the sky is clear now. Katniss is standing 10 yards or so away from the door, with her back towards me, looking up at the stars. I can see that she's shivering. Without thinking, I take my jacket off and put it around her bare shoulders.

She turns around, her eyes wide, and she looks confused when she sees it's me. Not that I blame her.

"You're freezing," I explain. "Are you okay?"

She pulls the jacket tighter around her slim body. She really must be freezing, otherwise I don't think she'd accept my jacket just like that. She looks up at me, her eyes dark in the flickering lights from the torches that light up the outside of the building. "What are you doing out here?"

"I saw Madge coming back inside without you, and I was worried. It's cold out here."

She rolls her eyes. "I know. Madge is wasted. I had to send her back inside before she froze to death."

"And you're not drunk?"

"Not as drunk as she is," she says, her voice defensive.

xoxoxoxox

**Katniss**

Peeta is shivering in just his light blue button-down shirt. His shoulders are broad, broader than I remembered from school. He's all muscle. It must be from lifting all those flour sacks in the bakery. His jacket is warm and smells of fresh bread, something sweet I can't quite identify, and… man.

"Let's go back inside," Peeta says. "You'll get sick."

"I'm not going inside."

"Why not?"

Our eyes meet, and when they do, it's impossible not to think about the bread. I wonder if he even remembers. I suppose he must, though. I saw his face at school the next day. His mother gave him a good beating because of it. That beating, if nothing else, would be reason enough to remember.

"Everyone was _looking_ at me," I say. It's hard to explain, even to myself.

"Well, you have an amazing voice."

I sigh. He clearly doesn't get it. "I'm not going inside," I repeat.

"Come on, Katniss. When I followed you out here, the fiddler had already started playing again, and people were dancing and drinking. Half of them are so drunk they have probably forgotten that you were singing already, and if you give them another two minutes, the rest will forget it, too. They won't _look_ at you."

I'm not really convinced. Before I can come up with an answer, the door opens, and Gale comes out. His eyes darken when he sees that I'm not alone. Peeta turns around, and he frowns when he sees who it is. I don't miss the look that passes between them.

"Mellark."

"Hawthorne."

Gale walks up to me and leans in close. Too close for my liking. From the corner of my eye I can see that Peeta frowns, but Gale completely ignores him. "Catnip, why don't you come inside?" Gale hasn't used his nickname for me since last summer. I don't think it's a coincidence that he does so now, when I'm standing outside in the cold with another man's jacket around my shoulders.

"I just needed some fresh air. I'll be right back."

Gale crosses his arms over his chest. "That was some pretty impressive singing in there."

I shrug. "It was just a song."

"Just a song?" Gale laughs. "Hardly. Why do you think Thom's mother started singing it? Your own father died in those mines, Katniss. You of all people should know that it wasn't 'just a song.'"

I look away. "I don't want to talk about it."

He laughs, but the sound is bitter. "I'm not surprised. You don't ever want to talk about anything, do you?"

I glare at him. "That's enough, Gale." This is neither the time nor the place. I've managed to avoid having this conversation for half a year. I'm definitely not having it here tonight, when Gale is drunk, not to mention in front of someone else.

Gale narrows his eyes. He looks at Peeta. "So now you hang out with Townies, huh?"

I don't really hang out with anyone, certainly not Peeta Mellark. But I don't have to explain myself to Gale. Not when he's behaving like an asshole. Not ever, actually. "It's none of your business who I hang out with. I told you I just needed some fresh air. If you want to talk about this later, when you're not wasted, we can. But right now, I just want you to go back inside."

For a second, I think Gale's going to explode. But instead, he mutters something under his breath and goes back inside. He slams the door behind him in anger. I exhale in relief.

Aside from the faint sounds from the party inside, it's very silent now that we are alone again. Peeta looks down at his feet as he shifts his weight from one to the other. His hands are in his pockets. I don't know why he doesn't say anything. He always used to talk to everyone at school, all the time. Everyone but me, that is.

The silence is long and awkward. Then, from behind the corner, I can hear someone puking. "Well, I guess it can always be worse," he says. I look up at him, confused for a second. Our eyes meet. "I mean, this may be awkward and all, but at least neither of us is puking." His joke is so unexpected, I can't help but smile. Peeta smiles back. Then the poor bastard behind the corner, whoever he or she is, vomits again, louder this time. Peeta rolls his eyes, and I actually _giggle_. I never giggle. It must be the white liquor.

"Wow," he says.

"What?"

"I managed to make Katniss Everdeen laugh," he explains.

"It was an accident. I didn't mean to."

"Was that a _joke_?"

I scowl, but it's mainly for show. His eyes are fixed on me. And for some reason, I can't look away from his face, either. Despite his smile, he's shivering, and his lips look bluish. "You should go inside," I tell him.

"I'm not going inside without you."

"Talking Gale into going back inside was pretty easy, but you don't give up, do you? Why are you so stubborn?"

"Wow. That's the pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard it."

I guess he has a point, although I'll never admit it.

"I don't want people to look at me," I repeat in a low voice. I hate being the center of attention. I never should have come here tonight. And I most certainly shouldn't have started singing.

He hesitates. "I have an idea," he finally says. "Follow me."

He walks around the corner, and we find the man we just heard throwing up. He's sitting on his knees in the snow, in front of a nasty, brownish pool. I wrinkle my nose. Peeta, however, pulls him to his feet by the shoulders of his button-down shirt, and sends him on his way around the corner. "Go back inside," he says, and he makes sure that the man has actually gone inside before we continue walking around the house.

"The back door is always open," he explains. "In case there's a fire."

"You've been to parties here before," I say.

"Of course."

I'm about to open the door when he stops me. "Wait. There's something I have to warn you about first, though."

"What is it?"

"There's a small hallway before we get to the main room. And, well, it's often _occupied_."

I look at him, confused. He sighs. "If there's anyone in there, and there is a very good chance that there is, they may not be… decent."

"_Oh_."

I quickly consider my options. My only other alternative is using the main entrance, and despite what Peeta said about the party returning to normal, I bet people are still looking for me, waiting for me to return. If we use the back door, there's a good chance we'll be able to slip inside unnoticed. Whoever's behind that door, it will most likely be more embarrassing for them than it will be for me. Hopefully, anyway. "Let's go."

Peeta was right. I hear a man swearing and a woman shrieking when Peeta opens the door, and I instinctively take Peeta's hand. Despite being outside in the cold, it's really warm. His skin is rough and covered in scars. It must be from the ovens in the bakery. I close my eyes and allow him to lead me through the hallway.

I don't open my eyes until the heat and the noise tell me we're in the main room. We're in a dark corner. No one seems to have noticed us at all, and I sigh in relief. I let go of his hand, then take off the jacket and give it back to him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiles to me. I smile back, nervously.

I scan the room, looking for Madge. Then I see her.

xoxoxoxox

**_Peeta_**

"Well, that certainly didn't take them long," she scoffs.

"What do you mean?"

"Look over there." I follow the direction of her gaze. "In the corner."

I furrow my brow. "Is that…"

"Gale and Madge." She's right. It really didn't take long for Gale to go from calling Katniss 'Catnip' and trying to stake his claim on her, to making out with her friend. Her face is serious. "She's drunk. I have to keep an eye on her so she doesn't end up with him on the slag heap."

"No one goes to the slag heap in the winter," I object.

"You'd know, wouldn't you? Isn't that where you Merchant boys take Seam girls? The ones you can't take home to your mothers?" Her voice is suddenly cold.

"Katniss, I…" She's right, of course. In general. "Not all Town boys do that," I say lamely.

Katniss snorts. "Well, most of them do. Not that Seam boys are any better." She nods over to Gale and Madge again.

"Sorry you had to see that," I murmur. "I mean, your friend and your…" My voice trails off. What is he to her, exactly? They can't be together now, not when Gale and Madge are currently making out. "…ex?" I finish lamely.

She glares at me, and I instantly regret saying it. "Gale is _not_ my ex."

"Really?" Even I can hear that my voice sounds hopeful. Clearly, Katniss does, too.

xoxoxoxox

**_Katniss_**

I narrow my eyes. "Really," I confirm. Peeta exhales deeply. He looks… relieved?

I'm confused. But in the back of my head, something is nagging at me. Something Madge said. About how Peeta _looks_ at me. I thought she was just thinking about tonight. But what if she wasn't?

I suddenly wish that I had Madge's bottle. But the alcohol I have already had is making my head spin, just a little. It's making blood pool in my lower belly, too. Or maybe it's those blue eyes. I mentally scold myself. Why is Peeta Mellark having this effect on me? It must be the white liquor. I'm never drinking again.

"Oh." He clears his throat. "Well, it's none of my business."

"No, it's not."

"Sorry to bring it up."

I shrug. I should just end this conversation. I'm not even sure what exactly we are talking about, but it's… weird. But there's no one else to talk to. I don't really have any friends here except Gale and Madge, and they are, well… otherwise occupied. Standing alone in a corner at a party, now that's awkward. What I _should_ do, of course, is go home. But I don't want to leave Madge in this state. And who knows where my winter coat is in that big pile of dark coats. And…

Excuses, excuses.

Peeta doesn't say anything. He doesn't look at me, either. He's looking at the people dancing, with a look on his face I can't quite interpret. I lean my back against the wall. I can't help but stare at his eyelashes. They are almost ridiculously long for a boy. It's a miracle they don't tangle.

"You have really long eyelashes."

Shit. I didn't mean to say it out loud.

He turns his head to look at me. "Um… I do?" He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had. I never thought that when I finally got to…" His voice trails off.

"When you finally got to…?"

"Talk to you. That we'd be talking about Gale and Madge. And my eyelashes."

I blink. "I'm not very good at talking." I pause, furrowing my brow. "What did you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"When you _finally_ got to talk to me?"

He blushes. "It's just that I… I've wanted to talk to you. For a long time. And I could never work up the courage to."

"Why?"

"You're pretty intimidating, you know." He sounds defensive.

"But why would you want to talk to _me_?"

"I, uh…" He swallows deeply. "I like you. A lot. I have for a while."

This is almost like that talk in the woods with Gale. Except now, I don't quite know what I'm feeling. But it's not dread like it was with Gale. It's not panic, either.

"Katniss? Please say something."

"What?"

"You've just been staring at me for at least a minute without saying anything."

"Oh. I didn't know. I mean, I didn't know that I was. Or that you were looking at me."

"Well, now you know." His voice is low. His eyes don't leave mine. But he doesn't do what Gale did. He doesn't just dump this huge thing on me, and then kiss me before I have the chance to react.

It's like we've drifted together. We weren't standing this close to each other when we started talking, were we? Then I realize it's _me_. _My_ body has somehow swayed closer to his. I lick my lips. He notices.

"Yes. Now I know."

I don't quite know how it happens, but I lean forward, just a little bit, and he does too, or at least I think he does, and then our lips meet. It's sort of an accident.

It's just a short, soft kiss. Not that I have much to compare it to. It doesn't last long. But this time, I don't feel like running.

My eyes must have fluttered shut during the kiss without my noticing. When I open them, he's staring back at me. His face is flushed, his pupils so fat that his eyes look almost black. I quickly look around. There are people everywhere, but no one seems to notice us. I nervously tuck my hair behind my ears. It's gotten unruly from the snow and the humidity.

His mouth is open, and I can't help but stare at his lips. Those lips were touching mine, just a moment ago. I never considered kissing anyone before, not really. I just figured it wouldn't happen to me. I have more serious things to worry about, such as survival. But now, I feel something inside me, a new sensation that grows warmer and spreads from my chest, down through my body.

One of us should say something. And it doesn't look like he's going to. "Um…" Great. Well, that was real smooth, Katniss. Now what? I look around, intensely aware that his eyes don't leave me for a second. The drunken party is the same as ever. But on the other side of the room, Madge and Gale seem to have parted. Madge is leaning against the wall. She must be pissed. She's swaying.

"I think I should take Madge home," I say. "That's going to end in disaster."

I'm making my escape. I need to go home and figure out what all of this means.

"Yes," he agrees.

xoxoxoxox

**_Peeta_**

The words just slip out. "Can I take you home?" She freezes, and I quickly try to explain. "I'm going in the same direction, anyway. Madge only lives a few houses down from the bakery."

"Um… sure."

"Why don't you go get her, and I'll start digging through the pile over there to find our coats."

Finding Madge's coat is easy, since it's one of the very few ones with a fur lining. Besides, it's right on top of Katniss's coat, and I know exactly what that one looks like. My own gray coat is at the bottom of the pile, because I was one of the first to arrive.

I walk over to Katniss and Madge. She widens her eyes in surprise when she sees that I've retrieved their coats. "How did you find them?"

"I saw you when you came in, and I noticed what you were wearing. That's all."

Madge giggles drunkenly. "I told ya, Katnissssss," she slurs. "Peeta's _lookin.'_"

Katniss looks uncomfortable, and I quickly hold out the coat for Madge, before she has the chance to say anything else. "Here, put this on."

It's not really a long walk to Town. Maybe ten minutes. But it takes at least 20 now, with Madge in tow. We have to stop once so she can throw up. I feel sorry for her, I really do. But I'm not sorry that the slow pace means I get to spend more time with Katniss. We don't talk much, and taking Madge home is far from romantic. But I don't care.

She kissed me. She _kissed_ me. Katniss Everdeen actually leaned forward, she definitely did, and she kissed me. I know she's drunk, but she's not _that_ drunk. Or is she? Is she going to regret this in the morning? Does she already regret it? Is that why she's so quiet?

We finally make it to the mayor's house. There is a light on, and I know that the mayor is up, waiting for his daughter to come home. Katniss knocks on the door, she doesn't ring the bell. "I don't want to disturb her mother," she mutters under her breath, just before the door opens.

"Mr. Undersee," she says.

"Katniss." His eyes drift over to me, and he can't hide the look of surprise on his face. "Peeta."

"Mr. Undersee." I nod to him.

"Hello, Daddy," Madge says. I can tell she's trying really hard to pretend as if she's not drunk. She's failing miserably. Katniss is actually supporting her at this point to keep her standing upright.

"You're home early," he says to his daughter.

"'Twas a boring party. Really, _really_ boring party. Right, Katniss?" Madge slurs as she looks pointedly over at her friend.

Katniss meets my eyes for a split second. We both know that Madge seemed to be having a good time at the party. And as for myself… the party was definitely not boring. Katniss looks back at Mr. Undersee and smiles politely. "Yes, it was a boring party. And I think Madge needs to drink some water and get some sleep."

I've come home in this state a couple of times, too. Both times it earned me a good beating from my mother. I don't think Mr. Undersee will hit his daughter, though. He looks at her sadly. "Thank you for getting her home safely, Katniss," he says. "You're a good friend."

Katniss's mouth opens and closes a few times. "Thank you," she finally says.

"Will you walk Katniss home, Peeta? Make sure she gets home safely, too? It's not safe for a young woman to walk around alone at night."

I love you, Mr. Undersee. I really do.

"I'll be fine, Mr. Undersee," Katniss says stiffly.

"Please, Katniss," Mr. Undersee says.

She sighs. "Okay. Goodnight, Mr. Undersee."

"Goodnight, Katniss. Peeta."

Mr. Undersee closes the door and locks it behind him, leaving the two of us standing outside in the dark, alone. "I'll be fine," she says. "You don't have to follow me home."

"Mr. Undersee is right, you know. It can be dangerous. There are lots of drunk men around tonight."

She snorts. "Let them try. I know how to kick them where it hurts the most."

"Well, that's good to know. I'm still taking you home, though."

She follows me, reluctantly. We walk side by side, close, but not touching. The sky is clear above us. As usual, there is no electricity tonight, so the street lights are dark. The only light is from the moon, which is nearly full, and the stars. We are the first to walk on this road since the snowfall earlier tonight. The snow is creaking under our boots.

What can I say or do to make her want to see me again? Now that this night is over, I don't know what is going to happen. She could easily go back to ignoring me again. But she _kissed_ me? What did she mean by that?

Neither of us says a single word as we walk to the Seam. It seems even darker here than in Town. The streets are narrower, the houses covered in coal dust. She stops outside a small house, which looks exactly the same as all other houses in the Seam.

"This is where I live," she says, her voice low.

I can see a faint light through the window. An oil lamp. Is her mother sitting up, waiting for her daughter?

"Katniss, I…" There is so much I want to say. But something about Katniss makes it impossible to find the right words. She's always had this effect on me. She shifts uncomfortably, sending stolen glances in my direction before her eyes flicker away again. I take a deep breath. It's now or never. "I had a really good time tonight."

She looks up at me. Her eyes are black in the moonlight. She doesn't say anything.

I wait for her to answer, but all she does is stare at me with her lips slightly parted. "I just have to say this," I finally blurt out. "Because this might be my only chance. Tomorrow, you might decide that it was all a mistake, and never talk to me again." She furrows her brow. "Will you go out with me? I mean, uh, we could do something together. Meet somewhere."

"Where?" she asks, her voice neutral.

That's not a no. But shit! There's nowhere to go. Not in this dump of a district, not in winter. "I don't know," I answer lamely. Where do guys meet girls they are interested in? I have no idea. I can't take Katniss home. My mother would have a fit. That's the last thing I want. "We could take a walk, maybe?"

"Maybe." Her voice is only a whisper.

"Are you going to just ignore me tomorrow?" I ask desperately.

"Maybe." But there is a twinkle in her eyes as she says it, and then she smiles. She _smiles_.

My face breaks into a huge grin. I probably grin like a fool. But I can't help it.

"I have to go inside. My mother is probably waiting up for me."

"Okay." I'm still grinning. "Can I come by your house tomorrow afternoon? After I get off work at the bakery. Will you allow it?"

She looks down. It's hard to tell in the moonlight, but I think she's blushing. "Yes. I'll allow it."

I lean forward, quickly, before I lose my nerve, and kiss her cheek. Her cheek is cold and so soft. She exhales softly, and for a second, I can feel her breath against my own cheek. She smells faintly of flowers and soap.

"Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight, Peeta."

I walk home, but I don't feel the cold of the longest night of the year at all.

xoxoxoxox

**_Katniss_**

I close the door behind me silently. Prim is asleep, and I don't want to wake her. I'm surprised to see my mother sitting in the rocking chair by the fireplace, though. Knitting in the light from the oil lamp.

She looks up and smiles. "Katniss. You're home already?" Already? I look up at the clock on the wall. It's nearly 1 AM. I've never been out this late in my entire life. "Did you have a good time?"

I consider her question. I think about all the drunk people. Gale's jealousy. The singing. Madge getting sick. People looking at me. "Yes."

"Was that Gale who followed you home? It sounded like a man's voice."

I look down. "No, it was Peeta."

She furrows her brow. "Peeta?"

"Peeta Mellark? The baker's youngest son?"

For a second, she can't hide her surprise. Then she smiles. "Oh. That's _unexpected_."

"Yeah." It was unexpected for me, too. How did we get from relative silence to kissing in a dark corner? To Peeta following me home? Not to mention me agreeing that he can come here tomorrow afternoon.

"I used to know his father. He's a good man."

I shift uneasily. I don't really want to have this conversation. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Katniss."

"Goodnight, mother."

My mother gets up from her chair. Pretending as if it were a mere coincidence that she was sitting up to 1 AM, and that she was planning to go to bed now anyway. Pretending that she wasn't waiting up for me. I guess a lot of parents do that, at least that's the impression I got back in school. But I never expected my mother to suddenly act like all other parents.

Even though it was awkward, my mother hearing Peeta and all, I still sort of appreciate it. I think.

I quickly take off my dress and stockings, and put on my nightdress.

It's confusing, I can't quite make sense of it all. Maybe I did get drunker on that vile liquor than I'd thought? Perhaps that explains why I just kept talking to Peeta? Maybe it would even explain the kiss. But even if I did feel the effect of the white liquor at the party, my head cleared on the walk home. I don't feel drunk at all now. And still, I agreed to meet him again. When he smiled, just before he left, I think my heart actually beat faster.

What does it all mean?

In our bed, Prim is snoring slightly. I slip under the covers, shivering. Thankfully, the bed is nice and warm. My sister shifts closer to me, she must feel that I'm here even though she's asleep.

I close my eyes. But I still see his face behind my eyelids.

xoxoxoxox

_I'm a small town girl. Let's just say I can definitely relate to this kind of party. _

_Thank you to Lbug84 for betaing and Chelzie for prereading! _

_Oh, and even though I had intended for this to be a one-shot, after finishing it, I started wondering… What would happen the next day? So needless to say, there's going to be a part two. And a part three. If you subscribe, you'll be alerted when it's up. _

_The song Katniss sings is a folk song from the southern Appalachians called "Black is the colour". It's from the book _English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians _by Maud Karpeles (ed.), which was first published in 1917. The songs were collected by Olive Dame Campbell and Cecil J. Sharp, and this particular song was sung by Mrs. Lizzie Roberts at Hot Springs, NC in 1915. I took some liberties with the lyrics. The text originally said "But black is the color of my true love's hair", but I changed it to "blond". Because, you know. Peeta. There are six verses, but I only used four of them. I got the lyrics from this site: _www . traditionalmusic . co . uk / english-folk-songs / southern-appalachians%20- %200355 . htm _and you can read the full version of the song there. _

_Happy holidays! _


	2. Chapter 2

**_A Midwinter Night's Dream was only intended to be a one shot… but of course, I started wondering what would happen next. So I wrote it. There will probably be around five chapters in total._**

**_I've changed the rating to Mature – because let's face it, we all know where this story is heading, right? ;) This chapter isn't smutty, though. _**

**_Thank you to my lovely ladies Lbug84 for betaing and Chelzie for prereading! Love you! _**

**_Lbug84 updated her Katnick/Everlark fic The Generosity of the Capitol yesterday – check it out if you like Katnick (I know I do!) and love triangles (again, I do! At least fictional ones lol). I'll update The miner's wife soon too, hopefully this weekend._**

**_Chapter Two_**

**_Katniss_**

I don't think I've been to the woods this late on a Sunday morning before. It's nearly midday. The snow crunches underneath my boots. I'm wearing several layers of wool, so the only place I really feel the cold is on my face. I pull my hat down over my ears and forehead, and breathe inside my shawl.

When I woke this morning, Prim was already up, which is unusual. I always wake first. But then again I've never been out after midnight before, drinking white liquor and being escorted home by a boy.

My mother didn't mention anything about last night. Over breakfast, which consisted of one thin slice of stale bread each, Prim asked me if I had a good time at the dance. I muttered "yes" without looking in my mother's direction and quickly excused myself. I escaped to the woods as soon as I could, before anyone could ask me more questions that I didn't know how to answer.

I'm past the fence now. I try to walk on bare patches whenever I can, but it's impossible not to leave tracks in winter - evidence of activity beyond the fence. The only reason Gale and I get away with coming out here is that the Peacekeepers let us. In fact, they are among our best customers, because they have more money to spend than most. We'd be all too easy to catch if the Peacekeepers really wanted to, especially in winter.

It snowed last night, and even though I can faintly see my tracks from earlier this week, Gale's fresh ones stand out more. I hoped Gale would be too hungover from last night to come out here today, but I guess I should've known better. He's been to lots of parties before, and he always goes hunting with me on Sunday morning. Why would today be any different? Because I saw him with Madge? Because I kissed Peeta?

No.

I follow Gale's tracks to the clearing by the stream where we always meet. I know that even if he's not here, he'll be close by, setting snares or hunting squirrels. I've just passed through the tree line when I spot him. He's in the clearing, waiting for me. His bow is hanging over his shoulder.

"Hi, Katniss."

So we're back to Katniss now instead of Catnip. That's a relief, at least.

"Good morning, Gale."

"It's not really morning anymore, is it?" He looks up at the sky. "Are you hungover?"

I narrow my eyes. "No. I just slept in." Which I have never done before. And he knows it.

"Sure you did."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I say, suddenly angry. I don't like the way he's looking at me, with hard, gray eyes and a smirk on his face.

"It means that I heard Mellark walked you home last night."

"What?!" People are talking already?

He crosses his arms over his chest and actually laughs. "You haven't learned by now that there's _always_ someone watching you in the Seam?"

I scowl at him. I rock back and forth a few times. Standing still out here is making my toes cold. "Well, then those 'eyes' also should have seen Peeta _leaving_ the Seam a few minutes later. Right?"

"Maybe they did. Maybe they didn't."

I roll my eyes. "If you've got something to say, then say it."

He leans closer to me. I fight the urge to take a step back. "Be careful, Katniss. Mellark is a typical Town boy. Once he gets what he wants…"

I laugh. "That's rich, coming from you. Isn't that exactly what you're doing with Madge?"

"No," he speaks sternly. "Madge and I know exactly where we stand." _Do they?_ I wonder. I'm not so sure about that. "She's just looking for some excitement. I can give her that. It's different for you, though. You're vulnerable where Madge is not. You know what Town boys do to Seam girls, right? They use them until they get tired of them, and then they leave and marry some nice Town girl, making lots of blonde, well-fed babies." I scowl, but that doesn't deter him. "And when they leave, they take your reputation and good name with them."

I have to fight the urge to slap him. "Well, thank you for your concern," I spit.

"I've seen it happen before," he defends.

So have I, but I'll never admit it to him. This isn't why we're here anyway. Prey is scarce now in winter, and we work better as a team. If we get a deer - my stomach growls just thinking about it - it could feed both of our families for weeks. "Let's hunt. And I don't want to hear another word about Peeta or Madge."

"Okay." He nods, his lips tight.

Gale and I move together through the woods, almost without a sound. We don't speak; we only communicate using our eyes and hand signals, which is a relief. As we weave through the trees, I can't help but wonder what time Peeta gets out of work on Sundays. We really should have agreed on a specific time to meet. I know the bakery is open today, but I don't know what their hours are. It's not like I've ever actually purchased anything from the bakery. I'm just there to trade, and when I arrive, I go to the back door and deal directly with Mr. Mellark.

"Katniss!" Gale's angry voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Damn it!"

I see the deer disappear between the trees. I wasn't paying attention, I was lost in thought.

"We'll find another," I mutter. But I know we won't. Gale's eyes are dark as he mutters some curse words under his breath. We keep walking, our stomachs growling, and I force myself to think about something, _anything_, other than Peeta Mellark.

**_Peeta_**

I wonder if my mother knows that I was with Katniss last night, because she's been in a foul mood all day. I might just be paranoid. Her mood could be sour because Rye is obviously hungover. He's in the back, doing my usual job of icing cakes and cookies, and I'm helping Mother with the customers out front. I love chatting with the customers, so don't mind it, even though it's tiring to work with Mother all day.

I run back and forth, keeping the front cases stocked with sweets and breads. I try to ignore Rye, who asks me questions about Katniss at every opportunity. I don't answer him, but that doesn't deter him.

"You _kissed_ her! The ice queen!"

"Was she a good kisser?"

"Did you fuck her?"

The look I send him when he asks that last question must have told him that he's gone too far, because the next time I go to the back to get more bread, he's toned it down.

"Are you going to see her again?"

This time, I actually answer. "I'm going to see her after work."

His eyes widen. "She _agreed_ to that?"

"Yes."

"And what about Hawthorne?"

I shrug. "What _about_ him? You saw him making out with Madge yesterday, right? Anyway, Katniss says they're not together."

"I'll cover for you," Rye whispers, because we can hear Mother's steps in the hallway. "So Mother doesn't find out."

"Thank you," I whisper back gratefully. Rye may be an asshole sometimes, but he's not all bad.

"I'm proud of you," he says with a grin, patting my back. "My little brother, getting laid at last." I scowl at him, but quickly look down when Mother comes, looking at us suspiciously.

**Katniss**

We've just crossed the fence. Gale's barely looking at me. He's still mad that I lost the deer. I'm still mad at myself, too, to be honest. We only shot three squirrels, plus one rabbit that was caught in a snare. When we divvied up the prey, Gale asked for the squirrels, saying Hazelle wanted to make squirrel stew. That may very well be the truth, but it could also be because he knows that Mr. Mellark really likes squirrels. Is he trying to keep me from going to the bakery? I didn't want to start another fight though, so I just took the rabbit.

When we reach the junction between the road to the Seam and the road to Town, he stops when he sees that I'm heading in the direction of Town. "Where are you going?"

"Mr. Undersee likes rabbit," I say. "Maybe he wants to buy it. Besides, I want to check on Madge. She was pretty wasted last night."

I try to keep my voice innocent, but I do want him to hear the underlying accusation. Madge _was_ really drunk, and he still made out with her. Although, remembering the scene at the party last night, they were hardly the only ones.

Gale shrugs his shoulder. "Okay," he pauses, looking down at the squirrels hanging from his belt. "See you next Sunday?" He's never asked for confirmation before. We _always_ meet on Sundays.

"Yeah. See you next Sunday."

I don't think he means for me to hear his exhale of relief.

I'm surprised when it's Mrs. Undersee who answers the doorbell. She must be having a good day. She suffers from terrible headaches, and it's always unpredictable whether or not she'll have to stay in bed all day. "Katniss! How nice to see you. Please come inside." She's very pale, her skin almost grayish. She's the same age as my mother. They used to be in the same class, but Mrs. Undersee looks at least a decade older.

"Thank you, Mrs. Undersee."

As I take my boots off, Mr. Undersee comes into the hallway, too. "Katniss, there you are. You're later than usual today, I was starting to worry."

I can't help but blush. "Oh, nothing to worry about, Mr. Undersee. It was pretty dead out there today, so we stayed out longer." I open the game bag to show him. "Are you interested in a rabbit?"

"Always," he says. He rummages through his wallet. "It looks like a big one. More like four coins instead of three."

I bite my lip. It is a pretty big rabbit, that's true, but the meat on old rabbits is far from tender, and I know that's what Mr. Undersee prefers. Is he trying to give me extra money out of charity? I hesitate for a second before accepting.

We make our trade, and Mrs. Undersee disappears into the kitchen, announcing that she'll make a rabbit stew. I tuck the coins into my jacket pocket and turn back towards Mr. Undersee.

"Is Madge at home?"

"She's upstairs," he says. "She's not feeling very well."

"Oh." I'm not really surprised.

"Thank you again for bringing her home last night," he says.

"No problem."

"If you want, you can go upstairs and try to get her out of bed."

"But isn't she feeling sick?"

"Yes, but it's her own damn fault that she is," he says, his smile almost devilish now.

I decide that I have time for a quick visit before I have to go home to meet Peeta. I walk upstairs and knock on her bedroom door. "Go away!" I hear Madge's voice through the door, half muffled.

"It's Katniss."

I hear some muffled sounds that I can't quite interpret, and then her voice again. "Oh, good! I thought it was Dad again."

I take that as permission to enter. Her father didn't exaggerate, she really does look terrible. She's dressed in an old t-shirt and cozy pants. She's lying on her bed on top of a throw, with a bucket standing on the floor near her head. Her skin is almost as pale as her mother's. "How are you feeling?" I sit down on her bed next to her.

She groans. "What does it look like?" She sits up. "Mother even gave me some of her Capitol pills. Not morphling," she says hastily when she sees me widening my eyes in shock, "But some of the others. For the days when her headaches are milder." She rubs her temple. "The pills don't fucking work, though. It still feels like someone hit me in the head with a sledgehammer."

I laugh. "You drank way too much white liquor last night."

She snorts. "You don't say?" She takes a few sips of water from the glass on her night stand. "It's really bad timing. I've never come home from a party in this state before, and of course, it had to happen right before New Year's."

I furrow my brow. "What's so special about New Year's?"

"I was planning to have a party," she explains. "My parents are invited to Cray's, so I'll have the house to myself – if my mother's well enough to go, of course, which is always unpredictable. I was going to invite you and a few other people. You know, keep it small in case my parents have to cancel at short notice and stay at home. But I don't know if Dad will allow it now after last night."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he says no," I admit.

"Did he seem mad at me?"

"No, not really. But he did say that being sick is _your_ _own_ _damn_ _fault_," I mimic.

She laughs. "Yeah, he's right. Don't tell him that, though." She closes her eyes. "Oh, it hurts when I laugh. Please don't make me laugh."

"I won't make you laugh, I swear. Although it's going to be hard, me being such a jokester and all."

She laughs. "Damn it, Katniss!" She winces and lies down again. "It was a great party, wasn't it? I told you it would be fun."

"Yes, it was."

"So, Katniss…" She studies my face closely. "I have to admit that my memories of last night are hazy, but I _think_ I distinctly remember that you and Peeta Mellark walked me home."

"He held your hair when you threw up on the street," I answer dryly.

"Really? He did?" Her eyes widen in shock.

"No."

"Oh, damn you, Katniss," she groans.

"You did throw up on the street though."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you most definitely did."

She sighs. "But Peeta _did_ walk us home, right?" Wow, she must have been even drunker than I realized if she's not even sure about that.

"Yeah, he did." I think about last night, about the way he looked at me as we said goodbye, and I realize that my face is burning. Shit.

Madge is staring at me with narrowed eyes for a second, then she grins. "Katniss?" she sing-songs.

I get up from the bed, and avoid meeting her eyes. "I, uh… I really need to go."

"All of a sudden?" she asks with a smile that is… knowing? Dammit. Is she lying about not remembering anything?

"Peeta is coming to see me after he gets out of work," I admit.

"He is?!" she squeals, sitting up quickly. "Ow," she says, rubbing her forehead. She must have sat up too quickly. "Well, you'd better get home then. Right now." She looks at the clock on her night stand. "The bakery closes in 15 minutes."

"Really?" I can't hide the panic in my voice.

Madge's smile widens. "Oh, wow. You're definitely going to tell me the rest of this story." She giggles. "But later! Go! You don't want to be late."

I don't think I've ever walked home from Town more quickly.

**Peeta**

It's been a busy day. The last customer just left, but we need to close up the bakery, which easily takes an hour, including cleaning and counting the money in the register. I sigh. It feels like I'll never get out of here. Rye and I are in the front, and Mother and Father are in the back.

"I'll close up the shop," Rye says, his voice low so that Mother doesn't hear us.

I look skeptically at him. He looks like shit. "Are you sure? Your skin is actually green."

"No, it's not," he huffs.

"Gray, then."

He groans. "I hate that we're open on Sundays. It really messes up my social life. I bet being open on Sundays was Mother's idea, and that she came up with it to keep her sons from partying and hooking up with girls."

"You still do both," I point out.

"Yeah, and the price I have to pay is steep," he says dramatically, and I laugh. "I mean it, though. Go. I can tell you're _dying_ to see the lovely Katniss Everdeen again." He cocks his head, smiling knowingly, and I blush. "Wow, you've got it bad, Peeta."

"Shut up," I mutter under my breath, my blush deepening.

I sneak upstairs, making sure to avoid the steps that creak. I quickly change clothes and sneak downstairs again.

"Where are you going?" Uh-oh. Busted. Mother looks down at me as I'm lacing up my winter boots.

"I'm going to Alan's." I smile innocently. I can't tell Mother I'm going to see a Seam girl, least of all _Katniss_. I know my dad used to date her mother. Actually, it was more than just dating - she's the love of his life, and he was devastated when she broke up with him to marry Katniss's father. Mother is who Father settled for, and _everyone_ knows it.

She huffs and leaves the room. As I'm about to open the door, Rye gives me a brown paper bag. "Take this," he whispers. "Hurry."

I don't question him, but accept his offering, murmur a "thank you", and leave.

I don't open the paper bag until I'm a few blocks away. There are cheese buns in here, and I can feel through the paper that they are still warm. They won't be by the time I get to the Seam, though. I suggested to Katniss that we could go for a walk, but it's freezing cold outside.

Katniss's little sister, Prim, answers the door when I arrive. Her blue eyes widen in surprise. "Hello."

"Hi, Prim. Is Katniss at home?"

"Katniss?" I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.

Mrs. Everdeen appears behind Prim. She doesn't seem surprised to see me. "Hello, Peeta," she says with a smile. "How nice to see you. Why don't you come inside?"

Prim gives her mother a weird look. I step inside and remove my coat.

"Katniss! You've got a visitor," Prim announces as Mrs. Everdeen hangs my coat on a nearby hook.

I look around the house. It's small and much colder than mine. I know, of course, that the bakery's oven heats up the whole house, but it's not that much warmer in here than it is outside.

Mrs. Everdeen gestures for me to move into the living area. A few embers glow in the old fireplace, but there's no fire. The furniture is sparse and worn. The green rug on the floor is faded. There are only two photos up on the wall – one of Mr. Everdeen, and one of Katniss and Prim when they were very young. Prim is only a toddler, and Katniss must be around six or seven. Both of her front teeth are missing as she smiles to the camera, and her hair is in two braids instead of one.

Impulsively, I hold out the paper bag, grateful that Rye had the foresight to give it to me. "I brought you this, Mrs. Everdeen."

"Oh, you shouldn't have."

I shrug. "It's leftovers from today," I say casually, knowing that the cheese buns have cooled off and how deep Seam pride runs. She doesn't need to know that leftovers are precious to us, too. We may have more money than Seam families, but we still live in 12, and I've gone to bed hungry, too.

A door swings open and Katniss steps out from behind it. Her cheeks are flushed, and it looks like she's a bit breathless. She's wearing a faded pair of jeans and a thick orange sweater. Her hair is in an elaborate braid on one side of her head. "Hi, Peeta." There's an awkward silence.

Prim looks between us, a look of understanding on her face.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to go for a walk," I say. "But the wind has just picked up."

"I know. I just got in from outside a little while ago." She rubs her hands together to generate warmth. I can tell that a walk would be a terrible idea. Panic courses through me. _Now what?_

"Why don't we eat the cheese buns that Peeta was kind enough to bring us and have a cup of tea?" Katniss's mother suggests.

It's not quite what I had in mind, having tea and cheese buns with Katniss, her sister and her mother, but I can't really think of any other alternatives, so I agree. We sit around the kitchen table. It's easy to keep a conversation going. Prim is a fun and clever girl. She tells me that she's 14, and we talk about her teachers at school, who are the same ones that Katniss and I had. Talking to Mrs. Everdeen is also surprisingly easy. I know she had a breakdown after her husband passed away, and that she's been suffering from depression ever since. But she seems to be doing well now.

"How are your parents, Peeta?" Mrs. Everdeen asks.

"They're good," I say. "You know, busy."

"Yes, running a bakery is a lot of work."

"It is," I agree.

"I knew your father," she says. "A long time ago."

I look up at her. I'm surprised she's brought it up. "I know. He told me."

There's a long, awkward silence. Mrs. Everdeen empties her cup of tea. "Primrose, I need some help with sorting dried herbs upstairs. Will you please give me a hand?"

"We don't keep herbs up-"

"Now, Prim."

It's blatantly obvious that she wants to give Katniss and me a chance to spend some time alone. Katniss stares at the table, blushing deeply. Prim looks confused, but agrees.

And then we're alone. I have no idea what to say to her.

It's clear that Katniss is not going to speak first. She keeps her eyes fixed on the table, and plays nervously with the end of her braid with one hand. I decide to just be honest. It's not as if I have anything to lose. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me again," I admit, my voice low. "I was afraid that you were going to wake up this morning and regret everything."

"Everything?"

"The walk home… the kiss."

She looks up at me. Her eyes are almost black. She shakes her head slowly.

**_Katniss_**

"I didn't. I mean, I don't… I don't regret it." His face lights up at my words.

"Really?"

I blush. "Really," I mumble. His lips, the sweet smell of his warm skin, feeling his body against mine. I take a shaky intake of breath at the memory. He's staring at me with slightly parted lips, and I'm shocked at the surge of _something_ that courses through my body. I nervously play with my braid, mostly because I'm not quite sure what else to say.

"I don't regret it, either," he says, a smile on his lips now. "But I guess that's pretty obvious, right?"

"Yes," I admit. It's not a surprise, after what he told me last night. "You said that you have liked me for a long time?"

"I have."

"Is that why you threw me the bread?" My voice cracks slightly.

"I would've done that anyway," he says. "Because you really needed it. But I'm really sorry that I didn't do more. I didn't even…" His voice trails off, and he has to clear his throat before he can continue. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

"Don't be. That bread meant more to me than you can possibly imagine."

"It did?" he asks, his voice hopeful. I nod. He looks relieved. "Anyway, I liked you long before that."

"I didn't think that way about you," I say, almost defensively. "I mean, I _noticed_ you. Because of the bread, and because I owed you. But I didn't watch you or anything." But I still kissed him. And I still said he could come here today. And here we are, sitting in my kitchen, with a full stomach even though it's December. "That's not what I meant. It's just that I don't know you."

"That's true," he says. "But we can do something about that." He smiles.

I furrow my brow. "What do you mean?"

"We can get to know each other. That's what friends do, right?"

Friends? He wants to be friends? Friends who kiss? "Where do you suggest we start?"

"Well, I don't know. Um, what's your favorite color?"

We just talked about an event that changed my life, and that clearly meant a lot to him, too – and now he wants to talk about _colors_? "That's not really important information, is it?"

"It is to me." He crosses his arms over his chest, and he looks at me, still with a small smile on his face.

"It's green. Like the forest."

He nods. "Mine is orange."

"Orange?"

The surprise that _orange_ is someone's favorite color must show in my face, because he quickly explains. "Yes, but soft. Like the sunset. Like…" He gestures towards me. "Like your sweater."

I had no idea I'd chosen to wear something in his favorite color. I don't even really like orange, but the sweater used to be my mother's, from her Merchant days. It's not as if I have that much to choose from, but when Peeta suddenly showed up and I still hadn't dressed because I hadn't been able to decide what to wear, I just grabbed the first thing I could find. "You give colors a lot of thought."

"I guess that's because I like to paint," he says.

"You do?" I'm surprised that Peeta Mellark, wrestler and one of the most popular boys in school, likes to _paint_. But I sort of like it. "What do you paint?"

He shrugs. "Anything, really. Mostly things I have seen. Nature, people. Do you have any hobbies?"

"I like to hunt."

"What do you like about it?"

No one has ever asked me that question before; they've just taken my hunting for granted. But it doesn't seem like Peeta takes anything for granted. I have to consider his question before I answer. "I like the freedom," I finally say. "There are no constraints, no one is watching me. It's just me, my bow, and the woods." And Gale, although I don't say it.

"It sounds great. And not like working at the bakery at all. I can assure you that my mother is watching me _all_ the time, there's no freedom whatsoever." He rolls his eyes, and I can't help but laugh. He laughs, too. I wonder if Mrs. Mellark knows where her son is now. Probably not.

"Have you ever been outside the fence?"

"No."

"I guess most Town people haven't."

"Most people in _12_ haven't," he corrects me. He's right. The fence was electrified for so many years, more than a generation, that people forgot how to feed themselves. They forgot how to hunt and forage. Only a few Seam families started going back to the woods when the Capitol found out they had better things to do with their electricity than to keep us captive in 12. What's the point, anyway – where would we go? There is nothing outside of 12 but an endless forest.

"Do you want to go?" The question just slips out.

"Yes, I'd love to."

He looks startled. Almost as startled as I am myself. What have I gotten myself into? We only spoke for the first time yesterday, and now I've asked him to go to the forest with me? How can I really be sure that I can trust him? Still, I keep talking.

"How about tomorrow?"

"Perfect. Bakery's closed. What time do you want to go?"

I consider his question. "How about I come to the bakery after my trading round tomorrow? I can go hunting early in the morning, and come back for you."

His face breaks into a big smile. "I'd love that. Thank you, Katniss."

I smile, too. I can't help it. There's a long silence, but this time, it's not awkward.

**Peeta**

I don't know how long we've been sitting here. I've lost track of time, and I couldn't care less. All the cheese buns are gone, and I just said no to a third cup of tea. Being alone with her was a bit awkward at first, because I didn't quite know what to talk about. I could tell she found my question about her favorite color weird, and maybe it was. But since then, Katniss has relaxed a lot, and now she seems to be enjoying herself as much as I am. She smiles, chuckles at my jokes, and she's definitely looking at me. A lot.

"Really? He did that?" To my amazement, Katniss laughs - a free, happy laughter. I've hardly ever heard her laugh like that before, aside from a few times when I overheard her talk with Gale in the school yard.

"Yes." I widen my eyes for dramatic effect. I'm telling her the story of how Rye jumped out of our bedroom window so Mother wouldn't find out that he was going to a party. It was in winter, so he jumped into a large pile of snow. "Unfortunately, he'd forgotten the key to the door, and when he came home at three in the morning, I slept so deeply that I didn't hear the snowballs he threw at the window to wake me up. But Mother did."

"Ouch," she grimaces. I'm opening my mouth to continue the story when I'm interrupted by an insistent knock on the door. Katniss sighs and gets up from her chair. "At this hour it can only be someone who's sick," she explains. The house is tiny, so I hear her open the door and say hello.

"It's Mother," I hear a breathless voice say. "The baby is coming!"

Without a word Katniss runs upstairs, quickly getting her mother. I go to the kitchen door, and see Mrs. Everdeen and Prim run downstairs. There's a Seam girl at the door who can't be more than 10 or 11. Her winter coat is worn and too thin for this weather.

"What did your mama say when she sent you, Lara?" Mrs. Everdeen asks the girl.

"To come quick."

Mrs. Everdeen nods, and turns to Prim. "It's Mrs. Slate's sixth child. If she says to come quick, then the baby will probably be here soon."

"Can I go with you, Mother? Please?" Prim says.

Mrs. Everdeen furrows her brow. "You have school tomorrow, Prim, and it's already eight. If this takes longer than we think…"

"If labor drags out I'll just come home, okay? Please let me go, I really want to learn."

To my surprise, Mrs. Everdeen glances over at me before she answers. "Okay, you can come. But you can't stay long. Go get the midwifery kit, please. Hurry." She turns to Katniss. "I'll ask Mr. Slate or one of their neighbors to bring Prim home in a couple of hours at the latest if I can't come home with her myself." She lowers her voice, but makes sure to speak loud enough that I can hear. "It's not appropriate for a boy to be alone in the house with you at night. It's getting late." Katniss blushes.

"I'll go home now, Mrs. Everdeen," I say. "Thank you for your hospitality."

She smiles. "It was very nice to meet you, Peeta. Please come visit us again. I hope it doesn't appear as if I'm throwing you out," she says apologetically.

"Not at all, Mrs. Everdeen," I answer.

Prim returns with a canvas bag over her shoulder. "Let's go."

They disappear into the winter night, and we're alone. Really alone.

Katniss's cheeks are still burning. "Does that happen a lot?"

"People coming to our door when you least expect them? Yes." Her eyes find the floor. "I'm sorry if she, uh…" Her voice trails off.

"No, it's okay," I laugh. "If I had a daughter as beautiful as you, you'd better believe I'd be guarding her, too." She takes a sharp intake of breath, and her eyes widen in surprise. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. "I mean it," I say. My face feels so warm, I'm sure I'm blushing as deeply as she is. "I mean, the guarding part was a joke, of course, but I really do think that you're beautiful."

Somehow, I've leaned closer to her. My hands find her slender waist, and she doesn't resist. Instead, she leans into me, and her hands wrap around my neck. Last night, it was all so new and surprising. This time, I know exactly how her lips feel against mine. I know the softness of her body, the sweet scent of her skin. But I don't know what she tastes like, not really. The kiss last night was so short. I tilt my head, running my tongue against the seam of her lips, encouraging her to part them. She stiffens briefly before she tentatively allows my tongue to enter her mouth. Something about the way she moves, hesitatingly and a bit clumsily, makes me wonder if she's ever done this before.

She makes a sighing sound into my mouth; it's almost a moan, and it makes me hard almost instantly. I shift uncomfortably, ending the kiss so I can separate our bodies ever so slightly. I hope she didn't have time to notice. Something tells me it's a bit too soon for that. I open my eyes to find her staring up at me, her pupils huge. Her hands are still around my neck, playing with my hair. She doesn't move away.

I don't really want to leave, but I promised Mrs. Everdeen I'd go home soon. Besides, I need to hide my erection from Katniss. I don't think there's any chance it will go away while I'm in her presence except, well… and that's definitely out of the question.

"I think I need to go home now," I say, my voice low and husky. I have to clear my throat before I continue. "We promised your mother."

"Yes. We did." She nods. "Do you still want to go to the woods tomorrow?" She looks nervous, as if she's expecting me to have changed my mind.

"I'd love to." My jacket is right behind me. If I turn around to get it, I can use it to hide the state of my body when I turn back to her. I reluctantly let go of her, get my coat and put it on. "I had a really good time tonight," I tell her when I turn around, my body now hidden by the coat.

"Me too," she says. Her index finger moves up to her lips, touching her lower lip almost wonderingly. I have to force myself to tear my eyes away from her swollen lips. My cock is throbbing. "So I'll come by the bakery tomorrow? How do I get hold of you without…" her voice trails off. Without my mother finding out.

"You can throw a snowball at my window?" I suggest. "I promise I won't be asleep this time."

She smiles. "Okay. Which room is yours?"

"Go to the back of the house. It's the window to the left, on the second floor."

"Okay."

I put on my shoes and hat. "Goodnight, Katniss. I had a really good time tonight."

"I did, too. Goodnight."

This time, the kiss goodbye isn't just on her cheek, and she parts her lips for me almost immediately.

**Katniss**

I'm making arrows in front of the fireplace when Prim and Mother come home.

"How did it go?" I ask Mother when she sits down on the sofa. Prim's in the kitchen, making tea.

"It went well," she says. "The birth was fast and easy; I didn't really have to do anything but remind her to breathe and make sure she didn't tear."

I feel slightly sick. I don't know how Mother and Prim can do this, and even actually _like_ it. "Boy or girl?" I ask. Not because I'm actually all that interested, but because hopefully, she'll stop talking about tearing _down there_.

"Girl." She smiles. "A little girl with lots of black hair, just like you had."

"She was _so_ cute," Prim shouts from the kitchen. I roll my eyes. Newborns are wrinkly and ugly. I don't know how Prim can find them _cute_. Besides, this is child number six in the Slate family. How is Mr. Slate going to feed eight mouths on one salary?

"Did you and Peeta have a good time?"

I bite my lip, remembering the kiss. "Yes. He went home just after you left," I say quickly.

"I hope you don't think that I don't trust you, Katniss," she says.

I shake my head. I understand. Seam girls don't really have much aside from their reputation.

"I heard something from Mrs. Slate's sister, just as I was about to leave," Mother says in a low voice. "She was at the Midwinter party yesterday, too." I pale. This doesn't sound good. There are so many things I don't want Mother to know about – that I drank liquor, that Madge was sick, that I kissed Peeta, that… "She said that you sang at the party."

I curse myself for losing control and singing in public. How could I be so stupid? I stare into the still barely glowing embers instead of looking at her. "Yes, I did."

"Why did you sing?" she asks, her voice gentle. "I haven't heard you sing since your father passed away."

"I don't really know why I did it, I just… did. A woman started singing, '_Blond is the color_.' Do you remember that song? Dad used to sing it."

"I remember," she whispers.

"Everyone was singing along, and I closed my eyes and started singing, too. And then…" My voice trails off.

"That's what Mrs. Slate's sister said, too. That everyone was singing, but then it was as if they heard the voice of an angel, and everyone stopped to listen."

I'm not quite sure what an angel is, but I get the general picture. "I wish I hadn't sung," I confess. "I didn't want anyone to look at me. It's just that I hadn't heard the song in so long, and it reminded me of Dad, and then it just happened. I didn't mean to."

"Your voice is a gift," she says. "You have your father's voice. Is that why you haven't sung since he died?"

"I miss him so much." My voice breaks. I have to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. I'm not going to cry in front of Mother.

"I miss him too. He would've been so proud of you." She reaches forward, tucking a lock of hair that's escaped from my braid behind my ear. "I can't believe that our daughter is now a grown-up."

I've been a grown-up for a long time. Too long, actually. Ever since Mother got depressed. Even though she was physically present, she still left me and Prim to fend for ourselves. Without the bow, and without Gale, all three of us would've died. I've carried an adult's responsibility on my shoulders since I was 12. And it's her fault.

I can't deal with this conversation right now. "I'm going to bed," I say. "I need to get an early start tomorrow." I don't tell her why.

"Okay, sweetheart. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I go to bed first, before Prim. The bed is cold. I shiver under the covers, curling up into a ball while I wait for the bed to warm up. Mother doesn't speak much about Dad anymore; I guess it hurts too much. For both of us. My thoughts are interrupted by Prim, who sneaks into bed. "Mmmm, you've warmed up the bed for me," she whispers. "You should go to bed first more often."

I feel my whole body relax, knowing my sister is near. "No, Little Duck," I whisper back. "You're the heater."

She just mumbles something unintelligible in return, and I know that she's falling asleep already. She must be exhausted.

I had hoped that Prim would stay awake a bit longer so we could talk. Perhaps she could get my thoughts away from Dad. But now that I listen to her slow, regular breathing and feel her body helping mine warm up the cold bed, I find myself thinking about Peeta, and the way his blue eyes twinkle when he tells a joke. His calloused and scarred hands as they close around the cup of tea. The heat of his body as he pulls me close.

Was it really just yesterday that we spoke for the first time? I smile into the darkness. Sleep finds me much easier than I thought it would.


End file.
